I used to take my good health for granted and would sometimes be concerned with things that really were not that important. Having MS has helped improve my perspective on life. Now I know what is really important. My mind is focused. My thoughts are clear. I am single minded. Whether I am in the Sistine Chapel or a Taco Bell, I always have the same thought: Where is the bathroom?
Unfortunately, that question is always on my mind. It depends on where those nasty little lesions form, but most of us with MS struggle at least a little bit with this issue. I realize that this is a little uncomfortable to talk about, so I will try to be circumspect and avoid obvious jokes.
Public restrooms cause the most difficult problems. I know that when I decide to head for the bathroom, takeoff to touchdown will be 5 minutes and 24 seconds. So I always ask where the restroom is when I enter someplace, knowing that it may save crucial seconds later on. It’s a little like the times you go for a walk and have to decide the precise moment when you are half-tired, so that you can turn around and get home exactly when you are 100 percent tired and before you are too pooped. I always need to be 5 minutes and 24 seconds ahead of any bathroom emergency. I need to get there before I am pooped. So to speak.
There are problems a person in a wheelchair has to deal with using public restrooms that we don’t often talk about. For example, what if the only accessible stall is being used? What if the stall is not large enough to for your wheelchair? What if there is a United States Senator in the stall next to you?
Sheryl Crow tried to start a campaign to save the environment by having us all use less toilet paper. Fortunately, the idea never caught on because I never would have cooperated. I think Al Gore’s book has an explanation of how to use carbon offsets to wipe out your over usage of toilet paper.
I envy our dog. He goes to the bathroom anywhere he wants. He knows there are places he is not supposed to take care of business, but if he makes a mistake, someone else will clean up the mess. For our dog, the world is his bathroom. On some days, the bathroom is my world.
From what I understand, I am unable to walk because lesions on my spinal cord are blocking the message my brain is trying to send to my legs. Sometime I try to get around the lesions by sending the message in a different direction to my legs. I mentally guide the message across my shoulders and down my arm where the nerves are OK. Then I touch my hand to my leg and the impulse jumps across my skin into my leg, making it move. It will be a revolutionary medical breakthrough if it ever works. I sometimes have dreams where I am playing basketball or walking with friends, and that is the explanation I give them.
When awake, I have a more realistic dream. I imagine that I died and am presenting myself to Saint Peter. I am in a wheelchair. Saint Peter greets me and says, “You can go through door No. 1 and you will be with the devil and all of the evil people who have lived upon the earth. You will still have MS and be unable to walk. In fact, because of the heat, your symptoms will be worse. But you have lived a good life, so you are eligible to take door No. 2 and go to heaven. Your MS will be gone, you will look like you are 25 and you will be able to hit a baseball 500 feet without steroids. But you have free will, so it is your choice. Do you choose heaven or hell?”
Then I reply, “That depends. Which one has the closest bathroom?” Unfortunately, I know what is important.